A Twenty Something Nothing

...we may have nothing, but Carrie Bradshaw was right: we twenty somethings are dangerous.

Latest articles

Why I Cry

I remember watching the news from the comfort of my over-sized couch, crying while my son obliviously played with building blocks and his pink stuffed puppy. The Supreme Court had legalized same-sex marriage and, as the sunlight shined through our living room curtains, the world I was raising my son in seemed instantly better. I was hopeful about a...

On The One Time I Wished I Wasn't A Mother

I started writing in between double shifts and in the middle of my three jobs and on the dirty bar of a strip club while I made lonely men and exotic women drinks. I wrote exhausted and I wrote desperate and I wrote confident and I wrote after countless rejections and I (definitely) wrote in spite of angry comments telling me that I had no business...

I'm Tired Of My Body Being More Than A Body

I'm naked and standing in front of my bathroom mirror. My body has hiked miles and snowboarded mountains and swam oceans. It has been in an immense amount of pain and felt surreal levels of pleasure and felt nothing but the sweet unconsciousness of a quiet night's sleep. It has ran for miles and been pushed to its limit and has worked with a team of...

Don’t Stop Dancing In The Rain

I had been to our nation’s capitol once before. I was a junior in high school and a member of a competitive, traveling basketball team. When you live in a small town in a removed state and you harbor hopes of playing college basketball one day, traveling to larger, well-known cities is the only way you’ll end up noticed. My team and I were only in Washington...

Why I’m Smiling

I know what you see. I know what catches your focus and earns a favorite and garnishes a comment. You see my smile and the happiness I refuse to hide and the joyous spaces in between. You see the filtered pictures of perceived perfection, my crooked teeth peeking through a lipstick-stained smile as I enjoy this moment or that memory or some fleeting...

To My Lady Friends: The Promises I Can Keep

We used to scribble them in heavy yearbooks. We wrote elongated promises of endless summers and forever friendships, all laced with the hopeful assurance that we’d never change. And, of course, we were lying. It didn’t take long for college or the military or careers or life to push us forward, constantly shaping our personalities and beliefs and responsibilities...

What An Abuser Really Looks Like

Well, that doesn’t sound like him. At all. That was the common response I received when telling close friends or family members about the abuse my mother, my brother and I were experiencing on an unforgivingly frequent basis. In fact, the disbelief and the silent interrogations and the inaudible doubts were enough to keep us as tight-lipped as our father...

What It Means When You Say I’m Hot, “For A Mom”

I was walking my son to the park a few blocks from our humble apartment; him, asleep in his stroller and me, attempting to stay cool on a particularly hot and humid day. Wearing a newly-purchased sundress and drinking water with a tenacity I’d imagine a camel would appreciate, I enjoyed my somewhat-solo stroll past modest homes and convenient stores...

How To Save Your Own Life

(This is an excerpt from my upcoming novel, to be found in bookstores everywhere as soon as I finish editing the bastard.)Most romanticize the act of writing, especially writers themselves. They wax nostalgic about late nights spent hovered over a computer screen or sheets of paper, willing or begging or pleading the words out of them. They call themselves...

I Don’t Thank My Partner For “Helping Me” Parent (And You Shouldn't Thank Yours Either)

It’s two thirty in the morning and my son is awake. He’s crying, not in the “something is very wrong way” but in the almost annoying, whimpering way that lets me know he is aggravated and hungry. I nudge my partner, who is snoring loudly because, rather impressively, the man could sleep through a nuclear blast of biblical proportion. He has to wake...

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